


east of eden

by valkemi



Category: Arthurian Mythology, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Immortal Merlin, Magic-Users, Rating May Change, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 11:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11080308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valkemi/pseuds/valkemi
Summary: They had all returned to Merlin in another life; however, will the past return to haunt him?





	1. new beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> a/n
> 
> honestly, my first fic.

“Arthur!” Morgana rushed down the stairs, ignoring her half-brother’s obviously dishevelled state of half-awake laying on the couch. Morgana blindly threw the hefty book, which managed to slam perfectly against his chest, before banging against her propped easel that held an intolerable amount of unfinished sketches. The sketches scattered across the floor as she violently snatched her easel.

 

“God, have mercy— what the hell is it?” He fumbled as he fell off the couch, grasping for any sort of support. Awake now, he aimed his pillow at her face that was too absorbed in the disordered sketches in her hand. Morgana was wearing her usual ensemble of graphic tee with blue jeans. The black curls of her hair gently shrouded her eyes of pale-green that Arthur often thought could bring either the coldest winter or warmest summer, depending on who was asking.

 

“The book you wanted on the Emrys? The one you wanted to give to your friend?” Her sudden response interrupted his thoughts. Those scrutinising green eyes observed him now as his hand started to aimlessly search through the jumble of books that he had looked through the night before: he must have fallen asleep again, trying to interpret old texts, depicting the legends of Old Camelot.

 

“Oh, that book. I didn’t think you’d actually find it—” He paused before studying the illustration on the leather book’s cover: he resembled a friend, aged by the brutality of time. The man’s blue eyes were framed by his sculpted structure while also softened by his enrapturing, unruly hair: his eyes seemed to not only reflect sadness but also evoke fear. The background was of a mighty castle veiled by forest, that faded against the man’s red robe.

 

“Did you draw this?” He could feel his breath unsteady, his mind immersed in the swirls of the painted image. The colours were strangely vivid and muted at the same time. His heart seemed to ache but swell with joy all at the same time.

 

“Yeah, I guess… More like he told me to draw him— in a nightmare.” Morgana faded off, continuing to mumble as she avoided Arthur’s puzzled look. 

 

“Don’t you have work at the university? You should go flirt with that girl you were droning on about… Gwen, was it?” Morgana continued her droning although she had already begun building the usual barrier of paints that surrounded her whenever she went through her “artistic process”. Her face seemed paler than usual as she seemed to be dragging her body around through sheer force. Arthur stuffed the book into his leather briefcase before quietly approaching her and lightly kissing her forehead, silencing her.

 

“One day back, and you’re already simultaneously torturing and helping me.” He grinned at her before dipping his hand in red paint and smearing it across her face.

 

“Arthur!” She shrieked as he bolted out the doorway, laughing while residue red paint began to seep into his clothes.

 

—

 

“What happened to you this morning? Have you finally messed with the wrong lass?”

 

“Shut up, Merlin.” Arthur playfully smacked Merlin on the side of his head before handing the weathered book over.

 

“I found that book you’ve been asking me about— look here, doesn’t this bloke look like you?” He pointed absentmindedly before grabbing the pile of ungraded papers in his mailbox. He liked Merlin for his willingness to stand up against him, the “untouchable Headmaster’s son”: although Arthur was one of the more competent professors of history, Merlin was the famous and revered professor of the acclaimed Medieval Studies program after all. The jokes, however, made at their expense, were endless.

 

“If I were a hundred years older—” Arthur watched as Merlin ceased his movement once he began to examine the illustration. Arthur swore he saw the slightest flinch in Merlin’s eyes when staring at the old man. Merlin stroked the cover before deciding to breathe again.

 

“Who drew this?” The words set in the room like it should be a tightly guarded secret: Arthur stared at Merlin while he sat down at his desk, his face not trying to hide his curiosity at the question.

 

“My sister. Said it came to her in a nightmare.” He chuckled before turning and setting down the papers to grade. At least, he tried to grade. However, Merlin continued to just sit there. Although Merlin seemed to be acting normal, the tension in the air made it so Arthur felt he was being suffocated.

 

“Your sister?” Merlin whispered, averting his gaze and concentrating on the frayed book pages. “You never mentioned a sister.”

 

“Raised on the Isle of Avalon, a half-sister. Younger than us. A painter, but a lazy one.” Arthur smiled before he turned to face Merlin, watching him silently close the book. Arthur thought he saw sadness scratching the surface of Merlin’s rigid face as Merlin traced the cover of the book.

 

“May I ask her name?” The voice had a steely lining to it despite the smile Merlin was now giving him. Arthur froze in surprise of the sudden intimidation from that small curve in his lips, but he resumed his task of grading papers.

 

“I wouldn’t, Merlin. Stick to girls who are more—how can I put it... on your level. She can't be your friend, let alone anything else.” He heard Merlin scoff under his breath. The atypical pause of silence from Merlin filled the room. The silence unsettled Arthur as Merlin seemed to be occupied elsewhere.

 

“I’m dating someone, you know, you dollophead.”

 

“Freya? Kinship does not necessarily signify love, dear Merlin.” He messed up. Arthur immediately regretted his words as soon as he murmured them. He could feel Merlin’s eyes burrowing into his skull, the room feeling as if it were trying to collapse on him. He felt some tension leave in relief when he heard three light knocks on the door.

 

“Excuse me—” He rushed to the door, only to see Gwen standing there. Her usual smile, however, was not there. Arthur slowly grabbed her shoulders and stared at her out of concern. Even Merlin left his desk out of concern.

 

“Is everything alright?” Merlin was now close enough to see the mixture of confusion and worried sprawled across her face. She seemed to snap out of whatever it was before finally looking at them.

 

“I’m sorry, but— apparently, your sister collapsed.”


	2. death haunting

"Your bravery is only matched by your stupidity, brother.”

 

“You could have died! We’re at a hospital, Morgana! Who goes without eating or drinking for several days?” Arthur’s face was filled with exasperation, only matched by the flailing of his arms.

 

“I see you still haven’t cleaned up from this morning?” Morgana signalled toward the chapped red stains on his clothes. Her snickering caused him to unconsciously cover the stains and glance to observe the mess of it. He violently jerked back to face her, however, to her misfortune.

 

“Don’t ignore the problem—“

  
  
“I’m not ignoring the problem, but simply ignoring you, dear brother.” She proceeded to return to her previous task of sketching. Arthur always though she look hypnotised when drawing, as if something else was driving her. It creeped him out, sometimes.

 

“Really? Take a sip.” She snapped back to reality before almost cowering at the bottle of water Arthur had aggressively snatched from her bedside table and then slammed on her table. “You saw me grab it. Take a sip!”

 

She hesitated before grabbing the bottle. She tried to calm the trembling of her hand as she opened it to take a sip. Arthur watched, almost apologetically, before trying to seize the bottle. She pushed him away as she forcefully gulped down the water.

 

“You prat. Get out.” Her restrained tone caused him to retreat. Because he knew her, he knew that he shouldn’t leave her alone. Arthur attempted to reach and try to rectify his mistake, but he knew when he went too far with Morgana.

 

“Sorry, love.”

 

After he left, Morgana attempted her best to remain her. She could feel herself starting again, breaking out into a cold sweat, her head already aching. Her heart burned. Something of that same damn memory, the pain of the drinking that water that was given to her by him, haunted her. The betrayal ached. It ached so much, she felt as if she was fracturing. Morgana needed to be her: she needed to be normal.

 

—

 

“Did you know he had a sister?” Gwen and Merlin had sat themselves outside the room. Ever since arriving, Gwen remained in her state of shell shock. They could hear distant rumblings from their arguing inside.

 

“Not until this morning.” She had thought something was wrong with Merlin since she had saw him. Was it the betrayal of not knowing something about Arthur? No, he wasn’t that petty. He was grasping on to that sculpted expression and intimidating gaze he only used when he wanted to hide something.

 

“His sister, the great painter Morgana La Feye.” She observed his face clench under her name. Maybe he was that petty.

 

“A fan?”

 

“Anyone remotely involved in the Art History world knows her. She’s quite a private figure, no one knows a lot about her. A majority of her work involves fantasy themes, a lot of them in that Camelot you seem to love so much.” She hesitated as the murmuring in that room suddenly quieted down. Her attention was curiously diverted for a moment, but she turned back to Merlin. He seemed to be elsewhere again, his eyes clouded over by burdening thoughts.

 

They heard the door quietly open, and Arthur emerged. His face was twisted with anger and a tint of sadness. He was tightly gripping the door before he forced himself to shut it.

 

“Arthur, is she okay— are you okay?” Gwen glanced, surprised at Merlin’s sudden movement. His sudden question slightly startled her because of his perceived pettiness, but she returned her attention to Arthur as she lightly gripped his hand. He squeezed back, glancing back up at her and flashing a small smile.

 

“She’s herself as always, I wouldn’t call that fine—” Arthur should have noticed this morning. She was acting weirder than usual, even for herself. He had to admit she always appeared to be elsewhere when he was talking to her, but Merlin was the same as her and maybe even worse. He could understand not eating while travelling, but she was at home now. With him. What was stopping her? However, she did seem to be haunted by something this morning. Probably, that nightmare she had.

 

“You guys can go— I need to just stay here for a sec—” Arthur heard what he expected: the crash of her not being able to bear it any longer.

 

“Morgana!” He tore open the door, dashing to Morgana’s side as Gwen and Merlin quickly followed behind. She had curled herself in her hospital gown next to her bed, and Arthur could tell she had already thrown up in the bathroom. He smothered her into a hug as she struggled against the floor.

 

“It was poisoned— I can’t breathe, I can’t—” She was crawling at her throat. Red streaks where she was clawing at at her neck flared brightly while blood seeped from the stress of her teeth scraping her lips. Tears trickled from her eyes as she stared at Arthur, and he swore her eyes flashed gold before turning back to her clouded green. Gwen found herself frozen outside the door, the woman looking to someone as if pleading for some kind of mercy. Gwen turned to Merlin for some sort of guidance, but he seemed further withdrawn, and she swore he saw tears gather in his eyes.

 

“Get the doctor, tell him to bring a tranq.” Gwen paused, waiting for Merlin to move before glancing back at Arthur. Arthur continued to cradle his sister in his arms, maintaining eye contact with Morgana as she struggled against his embrace.

 

“Get her help— now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n:
> 
> double posting to start things off. i have a couple of drafts written for the next few chapters, but i'm letting myself make sure i'm satisfied with where the plot is heading before i publish.


End file.
